‘Mostly walking wounded, thank God. I’m fine – just tired. I’ve hardly had any sleep.’

Neither had Imelda.

‘Titus has a black eye coming and Sara-Jade lost a front tooth,’ Ruby continued.

‘Sara-Jade?’

‘Yes, indeed. She broke a chair over the head of a lad that punched Titus and managed to whack herself in the mouth with one of the legs.’

Imelda piled sandwiches onto plates. ‘And Cillian?’ She didn’t look at Ruby.

Ruby smiled. ‘I wondered when you’d ask. He’s got a few cuts and bruises and a fat lip, but don’t worry, he’ll live.’

Imelda winced at the thought of his injuries but said nothing. Ruby checked the trolley.

‘Right, have we got everything?’ They set off back towards the wrecked entertainment lounge, cups and saucers chinking merrily as the heavy trolley bumped along.

‘What happened to you last night?’ Ruby finally remembered to ask.

By the time Imelda had finished telling her about Grisha they were surrounded by hungry helpers eager for tea and sandwiches. Ruby started filling cups. ‘I warned you about her. The awful thing is that we can’t prove she did it. So, is that why you didn’t come to the disco? Because of Grisha?’

Before Imelda had a chance to answer, Sara-Jade interrupted with a more pressing question.

‘Where’s Marty? Why isn’t he helping?’

Ruby passed her a cup of tea. ‘He’s helping the police with their enquiries along with Titus and Cillian. They were told to call in at the station this morning and confirm their statements.’

Sara-Jade helped herself to a sandwich and bit into it gingerly. ‘Well, Marty won’t have much to say, will he? Where on earth was he hiding while all hell was breaking loose? He’s about as much use as a fart in a bucket.’ Imelda nearly choked on her tea.

After several more hours of work, some semblance of order had been restored. The stage was clear, and the curtain had been rehung. The palm tree lamps had been re-erected and the decapitated flamingos disposed of. The floor was glass-free, and if not gleaming, at least passably clean, and the surviving chairs had been set out in neat rows facing the stage for that night’s show ‘that must go on!’ Ruby had declared.

‘You should go home and get some rest for a couple of hours,’ Imelda told her.

‘Yes,’ agreed Sara-Jade. ‘You look knackered.’

Ruby shrugged off their concerns. ‘There’s no time. Besides, if I go home, I doubt that Randall will let me come back. But I might take a nap in one of the staff chalets in a bit.’

‘Like that snooty friend of Jeanie’s did last night.’ Sara-Jade winked conspiratorially. ‘I caught her coming out this morning.’

‘She’s not supposed to be in staff quarters.’ Ruby’s voice was suddenly stern, and she glanced at Imelda anxiously. ‘Whose chalet was she in?’